


Narrow Road To Far Province

by ununoriginal



Category: NewS (Band)
Genre: M/M, One of My Favorites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-31
Updated: 2009-02-02
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:59:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ununoriginal/pseuds/ununoriginal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shige's journey from where he was, to where he is, and of the person who accompanied him along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The blast of sunlight bursts in, flooding Shige's bedroom when his mother forcefully draws back the curtains during mornings of high summer.  
  
Shige's first instinct has always been to shy away, turning his head to bury his face into the pillow, away from the blinding brilliance pricking his tender eyes.  But even with his eyes shut, he still senses the glowing illumination warm and red behind his eyelids.  
  
Eventually, Shige will shift and gradually peek out from beneath the covers, marvelling at how bright and airy his room seems with the light pouring in through the double windows, how the spaces all seem that much wider, compared to the cosy gloom of the night before.  He slowly tumbles out of bed and crawls out of the tangle of bedding he's half-trailed down to the floor with him, pushing to his feet and softly padding across the floor to the window, pressing his cheek to the smooth glass pane.  
  
Shige daydreams a bit, under the view of the wispy clouds slowly floating by and the impossibly blue sky, before the voice of his mother calling to breakfast pulls him away.  
  
  
“Shift, you.”  Shige jumps a little at the brusque instruction, accompanied by the sharp poke to the back of his shoulder.  
  
“What?”  He turns, ostensibly to meet his senpai's impatient gaze, but all he manages is to fixate on the dirty blond curls on top of the other boy's head.  
  
“I said, shift,” Nishikido Ryo repeats, his Kansai-ben further accentuating his 'I'm talking to an idiot' tone.  “You're blocking my face.”  And sure enough, the photographer signals for Shige to crouch lower.  
  
Shige flushes and bends down further, privately seething at being dictated to by a virtual stranger, even if it's a jimusho senpai who is two years his senior.  In between takes, he looks over longingly at Koyama and Kusano, who, though not totally enjoying themselves, at least appear more at ease.  
  
“Oi, pay attention to the camera.”  Shige jumps again, cursing his own nerves, and mumbles an apology as he forces himself to concentrate on the cues from the photographer.    
  
When the torturous shoot is over, he hurries back to the refuge of the remaining two-thirds of K.K.Kity, sighing with relief as he sinks down next to Kusano.  
  
“That wasn't too bad, right?” Koyama asks with a consoling note in his voice as he cranes his head around Kusano.  
  
“I guess,” Shige replies as he sips from his water bottle, surreptitiously watching the blond-haired boy stalk back to the other end of the room, where the only table and couch is situated, and where Yamashita Tomohisa and the other Kansai Junior – Shige vaguely remembers his name is Uchi – are sitting.  
  
“I wonder why we're all here, it's a strange combination, isn't it?” Koyama continues.  He's looking at Moriuchi and Masuda, who appears a little forlorn away from the rest of Kisumai.  There's also another Junior they barely know, all wary eyes and messy hair.  
  
Shige 'hmm's in response, but he thinks he might have an inkling.  He'll just rather not vocalise it yet, in case it jinxes the whole thing.  It's something every boy who joins the Jimusho works for, but he's not completely sure whether he's happy with the notion, if it means he'll end up having to work closely with the likes of that Kansai tyrant.  Still, he understands that chances like these are hard to come by, so he merely shrugs to himself, and waits for the inevitable.  
  
*  
  
There are days when the skies seem sort of overcast, somewhere between off-white and not-grey, and the oppressive heat gathers under the cloud bank, nowhere to go but to remain cloyingly upon skin and under his clothes, leaving Shige with sticky palms and a damp scalp.  
  
Days like these, Shige wants nothing more than to sprawl on his stomach in his father's study, the air-conditioning at full blast, lazing like the nameless cat in Soseki's fascinating novel.  
  
But the alarm on his phone beeps, and he reluctantly uncurls from his spot on the couch, preparing to go to the Jimusho for more tedious dance practices and rehearsals.  
  
  
Shige trudges through the doors of the Jimusho, the barely cool air doing nothing to remove the humidity suffocating his lungs.  When he drags his feet towards the dance studio and opens the door, he finds seven other faces, half of them worried and the other half annoyed, all focused upon him.  
  
“There you are!  Now that his highness has arrived, we can finally do a proper run-through!”  Nishikido pushes up from where he's sitting to position himself in front of the mirror, Yamashita-kun also mechanically following him to take his own place.  Uchi flashes Shige an irritated glance before standing behind Ryo.  
  
“Hurry up!”    
  
Everyone else springs up and scurries into formation at Ryo's bark.  Still confused, Shige quickly drops his bag by the wall and moves to catch up with the rest as the music starts.  Being flustered and bewildered does not help him.  
  
“Where were you?” Koyama asks when they take a short break.    
  
“What do you mean?”  Shige tries to control his panting breaths, telling himself he's imagining the killer glares coming from the elite section of the room.  
  
“He means you were nearly forty-five minutes late,” Kusano interjects from Shige's other side.  “And Nishikido-jun was blistering our ears off about people who can't stick to schedule and end up wasting his goddamn precious time.”  He slips into Kansai-ben for the last few words, imitating Nishikido's typical cheesed-off expression.  
  
“No!  I was on-- I was late?” Shige exclaims disbelievingly as he rummages through his bag for their schedule.  The incriminating digits stare back at him accusingly from the piece of crumpled paper.  “Oh... shit, I was late.”  
  
The knowledge of his inexplicable carelessness plagues him throughout the rest of practice, making him stumble even more than normal, and earning twice the number of sharp-tongued barbs from Nishikido.  He knows he more or less deserves it this time, and it's just his turn being unlucky today – Nishikido is impartial with his poison-tongue towards all members of the group with the exception of Uchi and Yamashita-kun – but each word still pricks deep, sinking through Shige's skin to clutch at his throat and squeeze at his heart.  
  
It gets to a point that even Uchi seems to feel sorry for him, because at the end of practice, he whispers apologetically to Shige, “We're really on a super-packed schedule these past couple days, so he's doubly cranky.”  He doesn't ask Shige to not mind, seeing as it's a little too late for that.  
  
Uchi and Nishikido have already packed their stuff, Nishikido already striding out the studio door.  Shige wishes he could have just let them go, but he's seen Nishikido's tired, irritable expression as he was leaving, and Shige's parents haven't raised him to be an individual who squirms his way past mistakes.  Which is probably why, though half of him hates it and is kicking and screaming at the other half for even contemplating it, he finds himself following Uchi through the doorway, out into the corridor where Nishikido is waiting, leaning against the wall with one foot tapping impatiently.  
  
“Ano, Nishikido-kun,” Shige blurts out before he loses his courage.  “I'm sorry for being late for practice today, especially when yours and Uchi-kun's schedules are so tight.  It was careless and irresponsible of me.”  He straightens out from his bow to meet Nishikido's startled gaze, for once devoid of a sneer or smirk.  
  
“...Whatever,” Shige thinks he hears Nishikido mumble, before the older boy hitches the strap on his bag higher and walks away, urging Uchi to hurry up.  
  
Uchi winks at Shige, giving him a thumbs-up and a quick grin as he darts past, easily catching up to Nishikido.  
  
Shige stands there, until they turn the corner and are lost from sight.  
  
*  
  
It starts pelting just seconds before the train pulls into the station and Shige glares at the gloomy skies from where he has paused at the entrance of the train station, debating whether to make a dash for it.  
  
The outlines of the buildings on the opposite side of the street are blurred by the straight lines of water and the Jimusho building, three blocks down, is practically invisible.  
  
There's just no way to win in situations like these, Shige thinks sourly to himself as he unfolds his umbrella, shaking it out.  He could wait for the downpour to lessen, making himself inevitably late, or he could be on time and suffer soggy footwear for the rest of the day.  
  
The frown line cuts deeper into Shige's forehead as he clutches his bag closer and steps out of the train station's shelter.  
  
  
It has not been a good afternoon.  
  
Rehearsal ultimately started late as some of the other members ranked their love for dry feet over their dedication to punctuality, and their choreographer, Kuroda-san, felt that better use could be made of the time remaining to practise their solos for the upcoming concert instead.  
  
Shige reluctantly faces himself in the mirror after Kuroda-san runs through how he wants Shige to perform 'Survival'.  The bass beats start and Shige feels himself hating the song already.  
  
After the seventh time Shige messes up the steps as the song enters the chorus, Kuroda-san gives up and suggests for Shige to take a break, wandering over to Yamashita-kun, who is executing his dance flawlessly, and really doesn't need any supervision at all.  
  
Shige slowly walks over to where he's left his bag and leans back against the wall.  The tears come unbidden from one breath to the next.  
  
He touches the moisture trickling down his cheeks, as the pressure in his chest and head grows.  It becomes harder and harder to breathe, and he hysterically wonders why he can't do this when it comes to actual drama filming.  
  
He rubs his face harshly with his towel to stop the tears but it just makes everything worse.  When he looks up, it's to see, of all people, Nishikido staring at him with a frown.  Before Shige knows it, his feet have carried him out of the dance studio, down the corridor and into the washroom, where he locks himself into one of the cubicles and sits down heavily on the toilet seat, trying and failing to control his heaving sobs.  
  
Suddenly the door to the washroom opens and someone enters.  The footsteps stop outside his cubicle and there's a rap on the door.  
  
“Shige, you there?”  Nishikido's voice seems abnormally loud in the silence, echoing through the room.  
  
Shige takes a deep breath, praying for his voice to be steady before he answers.  “Y-yes, must have been something I ate.”  But his voice wobbles and cracks towards the end, and it just brings on a fresh wave of crying again.  
  
Nishikido doesn't say anything for a long time, and Shige can almost imagine he's alone again if not for the fact that he hasn't heard any footsteps heading towards the door.  
  
“Did you really think things would always happen the way you expect it to?”  
  
Shige's head jerks up in surprise.  
  
There's a soft thud as Nishikido leans against the cubicle door and unconsciously, Shige stands up, drawing closer.  
  
“You signed up for this, and you've come this far.  If it's been peaches and cream all this time, then you were just damn lucky.  In this industry, we do the things we hate, so that we get to do what we love.”  
  
The words resound in Shige's mind as his fingers dig crescents into his palms.  He leans his forehead against the hard vinyl of the cubicle door, his jagged breathing gradually evening out.  
  
In the resulting quiet, the only thing Shige hears is the hollow patter of raindrops against the washroom's tiny window, and then Nishikido softly saying, “Don't lose to yourself.”  
  
Shige closes his eyes and unlocks the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Some mornings when Shige leaves his home, the sky is a perfect, powdery blue, the faintest hint of cotton-ball clouds beginning to form high up in the atmosphere.  The sun's already a distance from the horizon, bordering upon glaring, but the breeze is cool as it kisses his face and ruffles his hair. It's good enough for him to overlook the blinding reflections from the windows of the houses he passes by that strike his eyes as he makes his light-hearted way down the few blocks to the train station.  
  
It's a fairly busy passage, especially around the time when Shige heads out, since kids and teenagers are rushing for school and the salarymen and office ladies for work.  But the tall hedges spilling over the walls, the winding spread of flowering bushes through cracks and fences, and the occasional shade from the overhanging branches of young trees make Shige slow his steps, savouring this short journey, appreciative of the colours of the flowers that catch his attention.  
  
It feels refreshing, like he's connected, part of a greater whole.  
  
  
When Shige gets to NewS' dressing room, he's a little surprised to see an ear-phoned Nishikido-kun curled up on one corner of a couch, using the armrest as a pillow as he naps away.  
  
The noise from Shige's entry seems to have roused him, for he opens his eyes a slit and pulls off one of the ear buds.  “Oh, it's you...” he mumbles.  
  
“Ano... aren't you supposed to be at the photoshoot?” Shige asks tentatively.  They're in for photoshoots today, followed by a few magazine interviews.  With Yamashita-kun away for drama filming, and Uchi temporarily off from work because of his pneumothorax, the frequency of rehearsals and dance practice has been literally cut by half.  
  
Nishikido-kun blinks slowly.  “Problem on set, we have to wait a couple hours.”  Then he shoves his earphone back and returns to dreamland.  
  
Shige shudders to think about the type of set they'll have to contend with if it is complicated enough to have 'problems'.  He takes a seat on the other couch, preparing to draw out his notes for some revision.  That plan is nipped in the bud with Tegoshi's excited arrival with an old guitar he claims he found in one of the empty rehearsal rooms.    
  
“Ne, Shige, you play, right?  Could you teach me?”  Tegoshi plops down next to Shige, bright-eyed and eager, already thrusting the guitar into Shige's lap.  
  
Shige glances over to see if they're disturbing Nishikido-kun, but the older boy's eyes are shut and the music can be heard blaring tinnily from his earphones even from where Shige and Tegoshi are sitting.  “It's Kato-kun to you,” Shige grumbles automatically as he takes the instrument, playing a few chords quietly and adjusting the pegs to get the right pitch.  
  
He starts by showing Tegoshi the basic chords, and a few simple progressions.  Tegoshi does a pretty good job of remembering the fingering and the chord changes but soon starts whining that his fingertips are tender, handing the guitar back to Shige instead.  
  
Shige plays whatever comes to mind, strumming lazily, making up the chords and tune when he can't remember the actual ones, and Tegoshi softly sings along, humming wherever he's forgotten the words.  
  
Shige's heart skips a beat when he looks up from his fingers executing a chord change to see Nishikido-kun staring straight at him.  The guitar strings jangle as Shige stops abruptly.  “I'm sorry, did we wake you?”  
  
Nishikido-kun shakes his head, giving Shige a tiny smile, mellow and sleepy.  “No, it's alright.  You're not too bad.”  His eyes drift shut again, but Shige notices that his earphones are gone.  
  
Shige returns his attentions to the guitar, forcing the slight trembling out of his fingers as they press the strings.  He slowly lets out the breath he's been unconsciously holding, the image of Nishikido-kun's peaceful expression accompanying him for the rest of the song.  
  
*  
  
On other mornings, when the rain beats its soothing pattern against the window panes and the dim morning light makes it seem earlier than it really is, the last thing Shige wants to do is emerge from the warm cocoon of his covers to face the cold and wet waiting outside.  
  
These are the days that Shige's mom has to rap a little harder on his bedroom door, even come in to prod at what she assumes is his back underneath the hump of bedclothes, before he concedes defeat and hauls himself out of bed.  
  
He munches mechanically through breakfast, barely registering the taste of the food, the gloomy exterior not doing much to alleviate the nagging worry inside.    
  
When Shige's done eating, it's with heavy steps that he leaves the table.  
  
  
Shige hits the light switch and gets the shock of his life when he hears someone curse in irritated Kansai-ben moments after the overhead fluorescents flicker on, illuminating the dressing room he previously thought to be empty.  
  
His heart is still pounding when he realises it's just Nishikido-kun sprawled on the couch, rubbing his eyes and squinting from the sudden glare.    
  
“Shit, you scared me!  Why the hell are you sitting in the dark?!”    
  
It's only after the words leave Shige's mouth that it occurs to him that he might have phrased it a bit too strongly in his shock, but Nishikido-kun merely gives a half-hearted shrug.  “Catching the Shinkansen back to Osaka, it's not for another two hours.”  
  
“Oh, then why didn't you--” _go for dinner..._ Shige bites off the rest of his question when it hits him that yes, usually Nishikido-kun _does_ leave earlier to catch a bite on days like this.  With Uchi.  
  
The silence in the room seems rife with Uchi's absence.    
  
The guilt-remorse-regret rushes back again as Shige stands by the doorway awkwardly, watching Nishikido-kun, who appears smaller, more vulnerable than Shige ever imagined he would be.  He remembers dance practice earlier when, for once, it's Nishikido-kun who keeps making the mistakes, moving into the wrong positions, pausing at the spaces where he should no longer wait, rehearsing for eight when now they're seven.  Shige vaguely wishes that he'd shown more concern, had thought to visit or call Uchi during his convalescence instead of texting a couple of mails as an absent afterthought, had invited Uchi out for movies or karaoke or various other things he's never done with Uchi, has never really thought of doing with Uchi, until Uchi got so abruptly taken from them.  
  
“I thought I'd catch up on my sleep while waiting,” Nishikido-kun murmurs, and Shige's ready to say _okay, I won't disturb you then_ , go pick up the notebook he'd forgotten on the small coffee table beside the couch and go on home, but the desolate air that shrouds Nishikido-kun seems to cling to Shige, pulling Shige back and he finds himself bypassing the coffee table and heading for the corner of the room instead, where the old guitar that Tegoshi found is now stashed.    
  
“I, um, I thought I'd get started on that song I'm supposed to write,” Shige stammers as he settles down on the other end of the couch Nishikido-kun is on.  And Nishikido-kun doesn't call him on his blatantly transparent excuse, maybe he doesn't even notice – although technically Shige isn't really lying, he _has_ been told to try and come up with some melodies for their next live tour.  
  
The initial few chords are random as Shige honestly attempts to search out a tune within himself, but his muse eludes him and he eventually gives up and just falls back on a familiar song instead.    
  
“Play that song from the other day?”  Nishikido-kun has curled up sideways on the couch facing Shige, eyes focused on Shige's fingers as they move across the strings.  
  
“Which one?”  Shige feels a by-now familiar flush coming over him, and he tells himself it's just the build-up of tension from Uchi's departure.  
  
“The one you and Tegoshi were writing.”  And Shige can't help the jolt of surprise that Nishikido-kun _noticed_.    
  
He finishes the current tune he's strumming and starts picking out the melody Nishikido-kun requested, ignoring the growling in his stomach, unfinished schoolwork and the prospect of his mother nagging him for missing dinner when he's already said he would be back in time for it.  Instead, he focuses on Nishikido-kun and how he looks a little less lonely, as Shige quietly sings about rubbish bins and forsaken love.


	3. Chapter 3

Shige leans out the window of the designated smoking area, down at the end of the corridor from NewS' dressing room, pensively watching the dark grey clouds roiling and scudding at the far-off horizon.  Directly overhead, the sky is a featureless white, gradually shading deeper as the storm front fast approaches.  The furthest buildings have already become hazy as the oncoming rain drenches them, but where he is, the air remains strangely still.  
  
Impatiently, Shige shoves back the fringe hanging messily over his eyes.  His fingers are itching for a cigarette, but he reckons that it's best not to draw attention to the fact that he's still not of an age to be legally associated with that pursuit right now.  
  
He grips the ledge and tries to will himself into feeling the slightest breeze, but even though he can see banners flapping in the distance, hair and loose clothing floating around the tiny people upon the remote ground below, the cool fury of the storm has yet to touch him.  
  
Releasing an explosive sigh, he slumps against the window frame, listlessly kicking at the wall.  He hates this type of waiting – the interminable time between the certainty of an impending event and its actual occurrence.  Every second drags, like a body crossing quicksand, amplifying every anxiety and irrationality.  Shige thinks he's always gone a little insane by the time it's all over.  
  
Then Koyama taps his shoulder, shocking him out of his morose reverie, and his stomach starts churning into ever tighter knots.  Suddenly Shige wishes that he could have stayed in mindless limbo instead, his thoughts perpetually travelling in useless repetitive circles.  
  
“It's time,” Koyama says, voice slightly raspy, his eyes anxious and red-rimmed.  
  
Shige nods wordlessly and turns to follow Koyama, back up the corridor, into the elevator that would take them to the office where their fate would be decided.  
  
He feels the first hint of moisture misting his skin as he steps away, and absently, he remembers that he should have closed the windows in his room, before leaving home this morning.  
  
  
Shige slowly releases the breath he's been holding, watching the smoke streaming from his parted lips rise and curl before getting whipped away by the icy wind outside the doorway.  He brings the cigarette to his mouth with fingers slightly numb from cold and takes another deep pull, the warm air sliding into his lungs.  
  
His brow wrinkles slightly at the ashy aftertaste and the dryness coating the back of his throat.  It'll make his voice even huskier than it already is, but the quality of his singing feels like the least of his concerns at the moment.  
  
Shige kind of understands why Koyama always has to have a stick in his hand during breaks now.  Shige used to think it a waste of time, not to mention its ill-effects to health, plus one need not smoke to still look and be cool, but now, he thinks he gets it.  
  
There's something compellingly hypnotic about the activity, as if somewhere between the inhalation and release, in exchange for the toxins and poison that will leave their mark upon his body, the unproductive thoughts and anxieties that plague Shige's mind get pushed out, set free to spiral up into the Tokyo sky.  He gazes at nothing, his mind a reassuring blank.  
  
“I thought I'd find you here.”  
  
Shige doesn't even bother to be surprised that he didn't hear Nishikido-kun coming up the stairwell.  He finds it quite easy to be indifferent these days.  
  
Nishikido-kun drops down beside where Shige's sitting on the little step of the doorway leading to the roof, shoving a jacket towards Shige.  “Here, try not to ruin your health in more ways than one,” he says at the same time.  “Your other half wanted me to pass you this.”  
  
“Don't say that!” Shige responds sharply, fingers clenching in the folds of fabric in his lap.  “He's _not_ my other half.”  
  
Because half implied a pair, a duo, two individuals as a group, and they aren't that – him and Koyama.  No, they were – _are?._.. Shige despairs at the contrary tenses that crowd his head every time he thinks about this – a trio, an unholy trinity, invincible in their country of laughter and innocence.  One that managed to stand firm against debuting, against learning to work alongside senpai and unfamiliar people, against schoolwork and criticism and Shige's loss of faith.  
  
Yet, all it took for it to crumble was a drink on a table.    
  
For want of a nail, a kingdom was lost.    
  
Shige rests his head against the frame of the door, glancing at Nishikido-kun's unsmiling face, the tension in the thin frame.  
  
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way,” Shige says quietly.  
  
Next to him, Nishikido-kun relaxes slightly.  He waves off the apology and lights up himself.  They sit together in silence, one that's not altogether comfortable, yet all the same, still feels better than being alone.  
  
The wind picks up speed, ruffling their hair even more and Shige shivers, hunching into himself, which makes Nishikido-kun nudge him with his elbow.  
  
“Jacket.”  
  
Shige sets down his cigarette and slips his arms through the sleeves, wrapping the jacket around himself tightly.  
  
*  
  
The bell rings the end of the school day, and Shige glances at the faint drizzle outside his classroom window.  The softly falling wisps of rain barely merit an umbrella, yet if he doesn't use one, the chill dampness that will seep into him from the accumulating moisture will most likely lead into a flu.  
  
Shige slowly starts packing away his things, until only a single sheet of paper is left resting in front of him upon the desk.  He contemplates the neatly printed heading and the lines delineating the numbered blanks he's supposed to fill in, lost in his thoughts until his classmate calls him, reminding him to switch off the lights when he leaves since the rest of the people have gone.  
  
Shige nods back in acknowledgment and stares at the survey form a while longer.  Then he folds it in half and slips it into his bag in between two textbooks.  He's put on his shoes and standing at the front porch of the school building when he realises he forgot his umbrella in the rush to leave home in the morning.  
  
He tucks his hands deep inside his pockets and hurries towards the train station, head bowed, hoping the drizzle stays that way.  At least it isn't too windy today.  
  
  
“What's so great about this place anyway?” Nishikido-kun grumbles as he leans against the doorway to the rooftop, blowing into his palms and rubbing them together while muttering further about its draftiness and wetness and cold.    
  
It's on the tip of Shige's tongue to say, 'It's not like I'm forcing you to be here,' but he holds it back, merely shrugging and watching the passing clouds instead.  He's quite partial to this grumbling, semi-whiny Nishikido-kun who bitches at almost everything left, right and center, yet still becomes one of the most driven and professional slavedrivers the moment work comes into the picture.  
  
It's a nice privilege, Shige reflects, that Nishikido-kun has let his guard down sufficiently for Shige to experience what it's possibly like to be Yamashita-kun or Uchi.    
  
“Here, don't keep making me do this.”    
  
Shige's vision of the pale blue sky gets obscured as his jacket is dropped carelessly over his head.  There's a warning tone to Nishikido-kun's voice that Shige is learning to recognise doesn't really mean anything at all.  
  
Shige murmurs a soft acknowledgment as he slowly pulls on the coat, something twisting in his gut as Nishikido-kun's act of concern reminds him of Koyama's mothering.  He imagines Koyama on the couch in the dressing room downstairs, smiling in response to Tegoshi, who is sitting next to him chattering away, and tries to quash the sour feeling spreading within him.  
  
Tegoshi latched on to Koyama and Shige the first time the members of NewS gathered as six for practice, in a well-meaning attempt to cheer them up.  Massu, eager to lighten the atmosphere, joined them as well.  It worked fine enough on Koyama with his easygoing nature, but Tegoshi's unconsciously superior attitude, coupled with the ever-expanding range of his vocal capabilities and increasing confidence as he got pushed more into the limelight, merely chafed at Shige's not-so-latent competitiveness.  
  
Shige watched quietly as Tegoshi and Massu harmonised like a dream, gradually bringing more brightness to Koyama's features, and the only thing that was teeming in his mind was how complete the scene appeared, how unnecessary any other additions.  
  
By the third day, Shige excuses himself, seeking refuge at the stairwell upon the roof, where Nishikido-kun discovers him and begins joining him during their rest breaks.  It occurs to Shige that perhaps this may be how their two senpai in the group are trying to show their concern: Nishikido-kun during moments like this, and Yamashita-kun by sporadically inviting Shige for dinner on evenings after they're done rehearsing for 'Road'.  
  
Shige appreciates the sentiment, though it's hugely ironic that despite all Koyama's efforts at member-ai, it took the loss of two members and an impending suspension for their group to gain this measure of solidarity.  Maybe it's easier, Shige muses, with the knowledge that this togetherness is transient.  After all, who knows where they will all be after April?  Or more to the point, where will he, Shige, be?  
  
Nishikido-kun still has Eito, and there's already a drama lined up for Yamashita-kun, a starring role no less.  Shige suspects there are plans for Tegoshi, maybe even Massu – their vocal talents are too good to leave languishing. Koyama told Shige yesterday that he's to be the new host for Shounen Club together with Nakamaru, and after the initial flash of panic at being left behind, Shige suppressed the pang of abandonment in favour of relief that Koyama will be having a steady assignment.  
  
“How was school?”  
  
For a moment, a very long moment, Shige pauses, a little disbelieving at what he thinks he just heard.  
  
“ _What_?”  He stares up at Nishikido-kun, who's looking rather embarrassed and sort of regretful at ever having said anything.  
  
“Well, fine, just shut it then.”  The older boy sinks down next to Shige in the narrow doorway, jostling Shige along the way.  “I was just trying to make conversation anyway,” Nishikido-kun mutters.  “You're so quiet these days.”  
  
Shige contemplates the uneven grey concrete spreading away from his feet.  Bit by bit, the left side of his body is getting warmer, Nishikido-kun's body heat seeping through the layers of clothing where their arms and hips touch.    
  
“We're supposed to decide what we plan to do after graduation.  The teacher gave out the forms today.”  Shige speaks into the silence that suddenly feels strangely intimate – maybe that's what loosens his tongue, lets him reveal to Nishikido-kun these things that he hasn't even told Koyama yet.  “I have to fill it in and return it by tomorrow.”  
  
“And?”  Nishikido-kun is quiet for so long that it's a surprise to Shige when he speaks.  
  
“And what?”  
  
“Have you decided?”  
  
“...well, I've always planned to go to university anyway.”  
  
It's just that Shige's also always kind of seen himself doing it like Koyama and Yamashita-kun, juggling two hectic schedules, virtually dropping from lack of sleep, yet still finding it inexplicably fulfilling.  
  
Now he thinks of himself as one in the faceless, forgettable crowds that will mill and drift past Koyama and Yamashita-kun on the rare occasion that Shige visits them at Meiji for lunch – rushing for early morning classes and lazing away the afternoons, spending long hours in the library in the evenings and forgetting the time; being dragged out by friends or classmates for late-night drinks, impulsively deciding to take a weekend trip to wherever and getting to see it through.  
  
He imagines himself in black suit and tie, joining the rank and file of the salarymen, squeezing onto the subway to get to work, another inhabitant of the cubicle farm, rooted to a tiny space where he will spend his anonymous days.  
  
Despite himself, Shige shudders, which Nishikido-kun takes to mean he's cold, and he pokes at Shige until Shige is bundled in his own jacket.  
  
“University's cool.”  
  
Shige draws back a bit in astonishment at the unexpected statement from Nishikido-kun, but Nishikido-kun doesn't really notice, caught up in his own introspection.  
  
“I was supposed to go to university.  There was all this talk when I was a kid.  My two brothers didn't get a chance to go because of the cost, but I could have had a shot at it.”  Nishikido-kun keeps his gaze on his own interlaced fingers.  “Then I joined the jimusho. And that was that.  My brain isn't designed for that much learning anyway.”  
  
The tiny, self-deprecating smile that curves Nishikido-kun's lips feels like one of the most mesmerising things Shige's ever seen.    
  
“Someone who has to remember twice the amount of stuff because he's in two groups just sounds hypocritical when he says that,” Shige manages to say after a while, when his heart has stopped pounding from the random irrational upsurge of emotion.  
  
“Oi!”  It earns Shige a gentle whack on the shoulder.  “See if I tell you anything again,” Nishikido-kun retorts as he stands up, dusting off his trousers.  
  
For the first time in weeks, the laughter bubbles out of Shige before he knows it and he meets Nishikido-kun's eyes, the pleased surprise in them, and he catches Nishikido-kun's wrist to pull himself to his feet.  
  
“Come on, it's time to get back, isn't it?”  
  
They clatter down the stairwell, leaving the ever-deepening blue rectangle of the morning sky in late winter, framed in the doorway behind them.


	4. Chapter 4

They catch the final bloom of sakura in Sendai when the band eventually arrives there.  It's the end of April and the flowers are nothing but compost along the damp streets of Tokyo, but the cold front shrouding the northern part of Honshu has delayed the flowering of the trees here.  
  
As the tour bus enters the city, it brings them past the neat rows of sakura, branches wreathed in soft pink glory, and Shige happily discovers that from the window of the hotel room he shares with Koyama, he can get a fairly decent view of the pastel petals and the floral whirlwind they create when the wind picks up and catches the fading flowers, tossing them into the sky.  
  
A spring storm descends upon the city that night, hammering streams of water against the glass windowpane, but the two of them sleep on obliviously, exhausted from the hectic schedule of touring, rehearsals and drama filming.  
  
Shige peeks out through the curtains the next morning to find a world slightly bleached from the rain, its colours muted.  The branches of the sakura trees sway in the breeze, appearing a brown that's almost black, bare but for a few stubbornly clinging blossoms, faint specks barely visible against the dark wood unless Shige squints a little.   
  
He stares at them, vaguely searching for some elusive meaning he senses might be hidden in these few remaining buds, but Koyama's finally done getting ready and they're going downstairs to meet the others for breakfast.  Shige lets the curtain fall back into place as he follows Koyama out of the room, and the idea falls back into the deep silent pool at the back of his mind, where all the other unexpressed facets of his imagination lie.  
  
  
Shige confesses to Nishikido-kun on the final day of their tour, minutes away from the official start of their hiatus.  
  
It isn't something he thought he would be saying – it isn't something he woke up this morning thinking he would set off to do by the end of the day.  But there's no one else left in the dressing room which suddenly seems more empty than it is capable of being when all the members were occupying it, no one left except the two of them.  
  
Everyone else has packed up and gone, even Massu for once, preferring to wait in the lobby for the tour bus to bring them back to the hotel.  The atmosphere tonight is subdued, unlike other post-concert occasions, and there is a general sense of hurriedness in the air, of wanting to leave quickly so they can curl up and lick their wounds somewhere that won't scream 'this may be the last time', 'not anymore'.  
  
In spite of that, as if he's pressing his nail along the edge of a wound barely scabbed over, Shige lingers in the deserted space, the countertops and tables practically bare of the clutter and detritus six idols would strew in their wake, slowly folding his towel, putting his toiletries and grooming essentials back into their pouches and arranging them in his bag, trying to stretch time out.  
  
Shige's almost done when Nishikido-kun returns from the showers, having drawn the short straw this time and ending up showering last.  He mutters an automatic “Shige, you're still here,” and ruffles Shige's hair in passing, heading to the couch where his bag and belongings are scattered.  Shige watches from his seat as Nishikido-kun sheds his bathrobe and pulls on his jeans, then draws his sweatshirt over his head.   
  
As if sensing Shige's scrutiny, Nishikido-kun looks up, seeming a little discomfited.  “What are you looking at?”  Then as if to cover up for his embarrassment, “Like what you see?  I suppose so, well, better enjoy it since it may be the l--”  
  
“I like you.”  
  
The words that tumble out of Shige's mouth are like a switch that puts everything on mute momentarily.   
  
In the blankness that follows, Shige is speaking but isn't really sure whether what he says is making sense, whether the stammered phrases that come from him in fits and starts are conveying properly the reasons why he thinks his feelings for the other have gone beyond simple friendship or senpai respect.  He doubts he's doing a good job since he's had no prior preparation to sort out the jumbled thoughts and confused emotions that for a while now have been plaguing him, whenever Nishikido-kun comes to mind, and now he's just letting it pour from him without first trying to put some structure and semblance to it.  
  
Throughout it all, Nishikido-kun just stares back at Shige, the startlement in his eyes gradually fading into his characteristic expressionlessness, until Shige gradually runs out of steam as the fog in in his mind clears, and he starts panicking at what a ludicrously, horrifyingly stupid thing he has done.  
   
Nishikido-kun's brow starts crinkling in a frown, and it brings Shige two years back to another time when he'd also lost his self-control.  Suddenly it feels like he hasn't really moved on, hasn't really grown much at all from that kid who had the delusion he owned the world when all he did was exist in a well.  
  
“I-- I'll... I'll just go wait outside,” he murmurs weakly and grabs his bag, preparing to flee.  Shige's almost to the door when a hand grasping his shoulder halts him in his tracks.

*

_The other day, I was clearing out some of the old books from my shelves to make space for the new university textbooks that will become my constant companions in the next few years, and I discovered amongst them an illustrated book about ancient Greek myths I had asked my parents to get for me when I was a child.  Back then I was fascinated with the mythic figures and the heroic battles they fought to defend their kingdoms, their adventures unfolding larger than life, and these were the stories I remembered.  
  
But amidst these tales of glory there was a short story of a woman called Pandora, created by the gods to be the first woman on Earth.  She arrived with a box that she was ordered not to open under any circumstances, but she did not heed this warning, her curious nature impelling her to open it and see what was inside.  
  
With the opening of the box came the release of all the world's evils and sins, which having escaped, spread to the ends of the Earth.   
  
Years ago, I came across an English idiom that says 'ignorance is bliss'.  I thought it was a silly phrase: there's so much to learn and know about the world we live in, the knowledge that we accumulate makes us wiser and enriches us – how can it be that the path to happiness is to be ignorant of anything?  
  
Not long after that, during a conversation with some of my friends from school, one of them off-handedly made a comment about another mutual acquaintance which was not very flattering.  And ever since, whenever I see this person, I will think of what has been said about him.  Try as I might not to, I see him in a different light now because of the additional knowledge I received about him.  No matter how hard I try, I cannot unknow it.  
  
If I had not had that conversation, I would still be living in blissful ignorance.  If Pandora had not opened that box, would we all still be living in Paradise?_  
  
*  
  
“What are you writing?”  
  
“Shit!”  Shige's hand jerks and the word he was in the middle of writing devolves into a spasmodic line as someone suddenly rests his chin upon Shige's shoulder.  Intent on his inner thoughts, he hasn't noticed Nishikido-kun's approach until the other boy has stopped behind him on the couch, leaning against the backrest to get a better view of the focus of Shige's attention.  
  
Shrugging Nishikido-kun off, Shige swiftly slams shut his notebook, desperately trying and failing to calm down enough that so the blush he _knows_ is suffusing his cheeks will fade.  “Nothing much, just something Fuku-chan thought I could try for Myojo.”   
  
“Oh?”  Nishikido-kun raises a curious eyebrow.  
  
“He read something I wrote a while back and thought it was pretty good, and he reckons it might make a nice addition to what we already feature in the magazine.”  Shige would have elaborated that the first essay is most likely already going into print even as they are speaking, but he's too busy getting his racing heart to slow down from the shock of Nishikido-kun's sudden proximity.  
  
Surreptitiously, he tries to inch away, frowning as he realises it's not so much the suddenness as much as Nishikido-kun's _nearness_ that's making him flustered.  
  
It preoccupies him for most of the trip to Studio Alta in Shinjuku for the _Waratte Iitomo_ filming, keeping him quiet and generally not as responsive to the random jibes that Nishikido-kun has taken to favouring him with.  After a while, Nishikido-kun subsides, seeming a little put out by the lack of attention.  Absently, Shige foresees he'll be on the receiving end of the Nishikido Attitude later, because the other man can be childish like that, and what worries Shige is that he really doesn't seem to mind at all.  
  
Shige stays distracted even as they clamber out of the van once they reach the studios, and completely misses the way Nishikido-kun eyes him with concern as they go their separate ways to meet their respective cast members.  
  
*  
  
Things start going off the rails a bit after Shige tells the rest of his group about his acceptance into Aoyama's Law faculty, and when the decision for him to be cast in a supporting role in Goro-san's upcoming drama is announced, the feeling of weirdness intensifies.  
  
“Aah~ turns out you're really a prodigy, ne?” Ryo chirps from where he's stretched out sideways on the couch, propping his head up with his left palm.  
  
“Why are you speaking in that cute tone of voice?” Shige retorts, deftly dodging the implied insult, and Yamashita-kun also joins in, chorusing, “Ryo-chan, ne, Ryo-chan, why are you acting cute?”  
  
Nishikido-kun protests amidst general laughter, growling that no, he's not _acting cute_ and to stop saying such untrue things, but he's grinning widely as he speaks, merriment lighting up his eyes and Shige's heart skips when he discovers that he's really finding Nishikido-kun quite cute after all.  
  
When Johnny-san summons Shige to his office and informs him, “YOU, go act in Goro's new drama,” Shige's excited at the unexpected prospect and a little shocked when the first thought that crosses his mind as he exits Johnny-san's office is, 'I have to tell Nishikido-kun and Koyama right away.'  
  
He ponders it all the way back to the dressing room, why Nishikido-kun not only automatically makes it to the forefront of his mind at a time like this, and also that his name comes _before_ Koyama's.  The thought of it all makes him slightly uneasy.  
  
After that, Shige starts noticing more and more things, a streaming trickle of incidents, occasions, uncalled-for jolts of emotions and tension that seem to go from strength to strength, snowballing into an avalanche until it becomes impossible for Shige to ignore that something is going wrong with him whenever Nishikido-kun is involved.  
  
Like how it bugs Shige more than it should when he realises he doesn't even have Nishikido-kun's phone number or email, even though it isn't really anything out of the ordinary, since their relationship thus far could be described more as that of colleagues than friends.  
  
After getting the number from Koyama, Shige hesitates at least five times before sending the first mail to Nishikido-kun, and later spends a torturous three hours pretending to not to pay attention to his phone until Nishikido-kun's reply materialises in his inbox.  He also feels inexplicably consoled when Yamashita-kun tells him that the three-hour time lag is already swift, by Nishikido-kun's standards.  
  
The hyper-awareness of the other man has returned, the one Shige used to have when NewS first formed, that made him tread gingerly around Nishikido-kun, tentative and careful of his presence, almost unconsciously positioning himself in such a manner that Nishikido-kun would be visible, be it only from the corner of his eye, being always alert to Nishikido-kun's actions and mood changes.  But Shige's no longer very much cowed by the notion of working with his senpai, and Nishikido-kun's 'poison tongue' seems to have gone into semi-hibernation these days, so there's really not much reason for Shige to be suffering a relapse.  
  
A couple of days may go by, busy days filled back to back with his new university classes and preparation for the drama filming, and Shige feels fairly normal again.  His schedule has actually become more hectic than it was before, although he understands it's only temporary.  Still, with the single promotions and the concert tour added to school and the drama, and his extra assignment for Myojo to top it all off, Shige occasionally catches himself looking forward to May, then feels guilty for thinking it.  
  
He only gets to see Nishikido-kun during the tour dates itself now, and each encounter leaves him increasingly confused as to whether it makes him happy or gut-churningly uncomfortable.  Sometimes, Shige has to admit, it turns out to be both.  
  
Once in a while, when Shige has to return to the jimusho building to settle some paperwork or meet their manager, Fuku-chan, he passes by the stairwell leading to the roof, and a wave of nostalgia sweeps over him, a vaguely aching sense of hollowness left in its wake.  They lasted barely a month, those rooftop breaks, but he misses them more than he considers reasonable, a time and place where the boundaries of senpai-kouhai, of colleagues, that divide him and Nishikido-kun became fluid, permeable, so easily traversed with a single touch, a simple look.  
  
It may have been easier to dismiss if Shige can convince himself it's all in his own head, but he has this nagging feeling that perhaps, just maybe possibly perhaps, something is a little off with Nishikido-kun too.  
  
In the dressing rooms, during the lull between getting their hair styled and putting on their layered costumes, Shige sometimes senses eyes upon him, but he'll turn around and it's just Nishikido-kun dozing off on Yamashita-kun's shoulder, or he'll look up only to see Tegoshi jokingly plopping himself onto Nishikido-kun's lap.  Shige ends up returning to whatever he's doing, faintly disappointed.  
  
Shige tells himself he's getting carried away with his overactive imagination, that this unproductive and unnecessary speculation will only come back to bite him in the end, but then he'll glance up in the middle of shedding the make-up coating his face and find himself meeting Nishikido-kun's eyes in the mirror, before Nishikido-kun quickly averts his gaze, breaking the contact.  
  
Shige always gets the urge to say something, maybe crack a joke to dispel the awkwardness that inevitably follows, but the words die in the back of his throat because he isn't sure that he still has the right – he can't tell if Nishikido-kun also feels they've gotten closer like Shige wants to believe they did.  
  
Intermittent reinforcement, Tegoshi recites one day, reading off his online lecture notes, is the most effective kind of reinforcement, because behaviours are learned rapidly and its effects are longer-lasting than if you have no reinforcement at all.  Shige thinks though, viewed another way, this form of reinforcement may just be the worst kind.  
  
At random moments when Shige's willing to be completely honest with himself, he has a fair idea what may be happening, but until he's sure, of himself and of Nishikido-kun, he's not going to risk putting a name to anything.  Because then it takes actual form and becomes real, develops its own expectations and rules, opening up even more possibilities and avenues that are currently too scary to contemplate.  
  
Right now, Shige prefers to tread in the shallows where it's safe, until he can observe further and gather more details to support his non-hypothesis, until it's suddenly the last day of April and the imminent start of NewS' suspension, and there's only Nishikido-kun and him left in the dressing room of a stadium in Sendai.  
  
It's irrational, but Shige can't shake the feeling that it could be the last time he gets to share a space with Nishikido-kun like this, finds himself unable to deny the finality in what he sees taking place before him.  It feels like the ground is falling away from him when he considers tomorrow.  
  
The sense of abandonment and impending loss whirls and mixes in Shige's head with the jumbled thoughts of _is he isn't he_ and _NOT ANYMORE_ and it all crystallises in a blinding flash of recklessness that pushes forth words from him before he can stop himself.  
  
 _“I like you.”_  
  
Shige confesses to Nishikido-kun on the final day of their tour, minutes away from the official start of their hiatus.  
  
The three words keep looping in Shige's mind, all the way through his muddled explanations and rationalisations and he begins to doubt he'll ever attain a law degree if this is how he's going to construct his arguments.   
  
The words continue to echo even as Nishikido-kun's hand on Shige's shoulder stops him from leaving and turns him back around to face the other man.  Raising his eyes to meet Nishikido-kun's feels like the hardest thing Shige's ever done.  
  
Nishikido-kun's brow is still creased in a tiny frown, but there's something soft in his expression, a little bit of wonder in the way he's looking at Shige, like he's really getting to see Shige for the first time.  Shige's shoulder is beginning to hurt from Nishikido-kun's fingers digging into his flesh, but Shige also feels how they're trembling minutely, and so he doesn't say anything, doesn't even dare to move an inch as Nishikido-kun slowly shuffles nearer.  
  
They've been close like this before, three years of photoshoots and touring and television shows wear these physical boundaries thin, but that has always been work, for the benefit of the fans and audience, and now, this intimacy, the gradual subtraction of the distance between them, leaves Shige's mind blank, because there's no script, no longer any instructions telling him what's the next thing he has to do.  
  
Shige's never noticed how much taller he is compared to Nishikido-kun until their bodies are suddenly pressed against each other's.  Nishikido-kun's arms slide around his waist, his hands clutching the back of Shige's jacket, and Shige's bag drops to the ground as his grip upon it loosens at the sensation of Nishikido-kun's hot breath against the side of his neck.   
  
Tentatively, one of Shige's hands move up to hold onto Nishikido-kun's sleeve and he practically stops breathing when Nishikido-kun whispers, “Shige,” each puff of breath that accompanies the syllables sending a slight shiver down Shige's spine.  
  
In the months to come, Shige will remember this as the moment when he felt immeasurably happy and calm and safe.  Maybe it felt so perfect because in that instant, there was as yet no thought of before and after – there was only the present, of being in that moment.  
  
Nishikido-kun's arms are tightening around Shige when Shige's phone starts buzzing in his pocket and they break apart abruptly.  Fumbling out the phone, Shige sees that it's Koyama and answers the call in what he fervently hopes is a steady voice.  By the time he ends the call, Nishikido-kun has collected his bag and rejoined him by the door.  
  
“It's, uh, Koyama.  He says to hurry because the bus is going to leave,” Shige says, marvelling at how mundane it all sounds.  
  
Nishikido-kun nods and they leave the dressing room, shutting the door behind them.  
  
As they walk down the corridor to the lobby, Shige will also recall already missing that instant of utopia he'd just tasted.  He will remember the damp warmth of Nishikido-kun's palm shifting against his own, and Nishikido-kun's lips curved in a tiny, secret smile.

***  
  
 _カーテンはゆらゆら踊り_  
 _The curtain sways softly,_  
 _時折 隙間から朝日を覗かせ_  
 _Every now and then, the morning sun peeking through the opening._  
 _僕はずっと寝転がってた_  
 _I lay about, hour by hour._  
  
 _放っておいた 付けっ放しのTVは_  
 _The TV I forgot to turn off,_  
 _サッカー中継から モンタージュ写真に 変わってる_  
 _Changed from a soccer broadcast to a montage picture._  
  
 _優しく残酷に 太陽は浮き沈み_  
 _Softly and cruelly, the sun rises and falls._  
  
 _描いていた筈の未来が ここには無くて_  
 _The future that I had pictured could not be found here._  
 _もう何もかもを見失い_  
 _[And] I lost sight of everything,_  
 _目指していた筈の　理想の僕さえ_  
 _Even the ideal self that I had aimed for,_  
 _忘れて　焦って　迷って_  
 _Forgetting, feeling pressed and hesitating._  
 _今日も日が沈む_  
 _Today as well, the sun goes down._  
  
 _不安定なこの街では　躓けば_  
 _In this city that lacks stability, if I were to stumble,_  
 _踏み潰されるような気がして_  
 _I felt like I was going to get trampled on._  
 _シガミつける物を探してた_  
 _I was searching for something to hold on to._  
 _世間体ばっか気になって_  
 _Worrying only about my public image,_  
 _アスファルトに映る影 見つめてた_  
 _I stared at the shadows reflecting on the asphalt,_  
 _右左微妙なバランス保ったまま_  
 _While preserving the delicate balance between right and left._  
  
 _ショーウインドーに映る僕_  
 _My reflection on the show-window_  
 _道化師みたいに泣き笑い_  
 _Smiling through my tears, like a clown._  
  
 _叫んでも歌っても_  
 _Even if I cry-out or sing,_  
 _誰にも響かない 気がして_  
 _I felt like it wouldn't reach anyone's ears._  
 _声と共に夢も 擦れていくよ_  
 _My dreams, along with my voice are fading._  
 _又今日も 誰かのせいにして 行くのかなぁ_  
 _Today as well, will I go on blaming things on everyone?_  
 _疑って 自分見失って明日も続くのかな_  
 _Will I continue being suspicious and losing sight of myself?_  
  
 _何かに頼っていたくて_  
 _I wanted to lean on something._  
 _その何かをずっと探して_  
 _[And] I kept on searching for that certain something._  
  
 _描いていた筈の未来が 何処にも無くて_  
 _The future that I had pictured could not be found anywhere._  
 _もう全てを見失いそう_  
 _I'm on the verge of losing sight of everything._  
 _傷ついて_  
 _I get hurt,_  
 _何を塗っても 癒える訳無くて_  
 _But nothing I smear on can heal the pain._  
 _治り掛けても 又掻きむしって_  
 _Even if I start to recover, I end up scratching it again._  
 _血と涙溢れるだけ_  
 _Blood and tears just overflow._  
  
 _叫んでも歌っても_  
 _Even if I cry-out or sing,_  
 _誰にも響かないとしても_  
 _And even if no one hears me,_  
 _君の為に 諦めたりしないから_  
 _For you, I will not give up._  
 _『未完成』_  
 _"Unfinished"_  
 _そのくらいが丁度良いんだよ_  
 _That's just right._  
 _その秘めた可能性は_  
 _The rest of your hidden potentials,_  
 _徐々に 組み立てていけばいい_  
 _Build it up gradually._  
  
 _僕には何かが欠けてるさ_  
 _I am lacking something._  
 _ただ足りない ピースを探して_  
 _I'm just searching for the missing piece._  
 _もうすぐ月が照らすよ_  
 _Soon, the moon will shine._  
  
 _目の前はキラキラ光る 星の夜_  
 _Before us is a night full of sparkling stars._  
 _ほらあそこでも 何かが光った_  
 _See, there is also something shining over there._  
 _今度は握りしめよう_  
 _I'm going to grab hold of it this time._

_\----Nishikido Ryo, 'Potential'_


End file.
